And what if I don’t want happiness?
What if purpose, is my calling?
Would I be less joyful,
if meaning and contentment are my aspirations?
If ever a delusion remains,
fed in all its rabid gluttony,
it’s this appetite and scavenging for happiness.
We scathe, like drug fixed fiends,
like un-sacred things.
Selling our identity,
for persona,
cheap whores for mundane,
and temporary thrills.
W.E.
Truth
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Thank you…. Strangely, I missed you and your writing. Haven’t been reading much online lately… Forgive me 🙏
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Thank you for saying that it means a lot I was gone a long time and didn’t know if I could come back and it means a lot to be missed and cared about thank you so much you encourage me so much nothing to forgive ever
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